


All The Right Moves

by MarsCosta



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Based on a Tumblr Post, Drama, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Feminist Themes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-05-12 01:13:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19218616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarsCosta/pseuds/MarsCosta
Summary: When an untimely death flips the Kingdom of Riverdale on its head, Princess Elizabeth Cooper is no longer her own. She is at the mercy of her mother, the Queen. What will happen when Princess Elizabeth is forced to marry the Serpent Prince in order to merge with an old rival kingdom to ensure her family's place on the throne?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to my new story! First and foremost I want to thank my dear beta, Cyd (@squids) for all of her help, and I also want to thank Sarah, (@theheavycrown) for the gif+prompt that inspired this.
> 
> I hope you guys like it!

* * *

 

_ "Let's paint the picture of the perfect place.  _ _ They've got it better than when anyone's told you (...)" _

 

Once upon a time, in a land far away from here in time and place just across the Sweetwater River, over the hills, existed a kingdom named Riverdale. A beautiful place blessed with richness beyond imagination. The people of Riverdale were prosperous and proud, living a comfortable life that made most passersby envious.

 

However, after what was called The Great Tragedy--in which brother killed brother for power--some believed the kingdom was cursed. Many said it was just a legend, used to explain and justify the feud between two families, the Coopers and the Blossoms. Both families were powerful, and both families claimed to be the rightful ruler of the kingdom. Of course, only one of the two got to wear the crown: the Coopers. 

 

In spite of all the hatred, the Blossoms did not dare cross their rivals. That is, not until the right opportunity presented itself. 

 

That opportunity presented itself when the Riverdalian Princess, Pollyanna, got involved in a tale of forbidden love with none other than Jason Blossom, the eldest son and future heir of their enemies. It was scandalous to say the least and it threatened everything the Cooper family had fought for over the course of centuries. Pollyanna was sent away to a convent in the hopes that it could convert her ways while keeping her away from the opposing vile clan. 

 

In other circumstances, the whole affair could have been dealt with differently, but the Cooper line was vulnerable. King Hal and Queen Alice didn’t have a male heir to take over the throne. That, along with their eldest daughter’s indiscretions, had gotten the Blossoms too close to the crown, adding on to the series of unfortunate events, it was then that the King fell ill. 

 

The doctors had been clear. Whatever malady this was that cause his illness, it was untreatable. Everything they had tried by way of treatment had failed, leaving his body too weak to continue his rule as King. As the doctors left the Monarchs alone to ponder their options, the sentence hung above their heads. 

 

“What of Elizabeth?” the king asked after a moment of silence. “She could be a valiant choice as my successor.” 

 

“Have you lost your mind?” Queen Alice nearly yelled. Her husband shook his head, struggling to find a more comfortable position for his aching body. 

 

“Mind your tone, Alice. I'm still alive and I'm still king." A series of coughs interrupts him. "While you were busy playing dolls and house with Pollyanna," he continues, "I was instructing and training Elizabeth in our laws, our customs. She is brilliant and I have no doubt that she would be a powerful Queen.” 

 

Queen Alice could see that he had given this too much thought. Either because of the years of heartbreak after heartbreak from their attempts to have a son or because of his sickness, she could see he was set on this--on crowning their youngest daughter his successor. 

 

“Hal, I beg of you, be reasonable. I’m not saying Elizabeth wouldn’t be a proper choice, I know her brilliance and her temper better than you give me credit for. But do you honestly believe the Blossoms and the other families will just accept her? She’ll be a sitting duck! Once you’re gone, whatever sense of power this family has will die with you, and I’ll be damned if I let any harm come to her because of you or this stupid throne!” 

 

The King sighed. “Do you have a better solution?” His question made her eyes shine for a brief second. 

 

“As a matter of fact, I do. And even though you won’t like it, it’s the only way for us to save our family and the legacy we’ve built.” 

 

A few hours later, a messenger left the palace hurrying to the Southside of Sweetwater River with a royal decree in his saddlebag. 

 

\--

 

A death, even one known to be coming is never easy. Elizabeth’s father had been sick for the past month, his condition slowly worsening as the days passed by. She had been warned, but still, when it happened, she was far from ready to say goodbye. 

 

One of the maids had come to wake her up in the middle of the night because the doctors said it was time to say goodbye. Her dying father hadn’t been able to utter a word before he closed his eyes, never to open them again. 

 

“The king is dead,” the priest’s glum voice announced as her mother, in a rare display of affection, hugged her as she cried. It only lasted for a moment, as the Lords--her father’s most trusted men--entered the room to pay their respects, to swear their allegiance to her mother, who’s now the de facto ruler of Riverdale. 

 

She’s ushered away by the handmaids to get ready for the funeral. 

 

The following day passes in the blink of an eye as her mind seems to refuse to register what has happened. Thankfully, no one questions her decision to stay in her room for the rest of the day skipping the family meals and other obligations. 

 

In the morning, however, she's woken up by her maids and her preceptor, Lady Grundy, telling her she needs to get dressed quickly because her mother has summoned her for a meeting. 

 

She had never gotten ready in a shorter time before, the maids running around, barking at each other as Geraldine barked back at them. Less than an hour later, her preceptor is guiding her hurriedly through the palace’s long hallways. 

 

Betty can't help but feel confused by all of this. “Can you please tell me what's going on, Lady Grundy?”

 

“There's no time, Princess. We must hurry. The Queen and the Lords are waiting for you.” Knowing it's pointless to ask further questions, she follows in silence and they only stop once they reach the doors to the throne room. 

 

“Geraldine?” Her voice is quiet. She hadn't entered this room since her father’s illness took a turn for the worse, surrendering him to his bed. 

 

“Take a deep breath and be strong, child.” The familiar words, albeit in a different voice bring her some comfort. 

 

As she exhales, the doors are opened and Geraldine puts a hand on her back, gently pushing her inside where her mother is standing with three men.

 

She has known two of them her whole life, Lord Andrews and Lord Evernever, her father's most trusted advisors. But she has no idea who the third one is, and something about him makes her feel unsettled. 

 

“Mother? You requested my presence?” The Queen turns to her, face serious. 

 

“Elizabeth. Come forward. Meet Lord Petite, from Eldervair.” Her thoughts are a whirlwind inside her head as she tries to understand what a dignitary from a rival kingdom is doing in their home. Still, she presents herself as she was taught her entire life, gently bowing her head, while holding her dress skirt with her hands. 

 

“It's a pleasure, Lord Petite.”

 

He bows to her. “Princess.” Without a second look, he turns to her mother. “I believe my King and Prince shall be very pleased, Queen Alice. We have a deal.” Deal? A deal with Eldervair of all places?

 

“Mother?” She asks even though her mother will be upset later for her interruption. 

 

“As you know, Elizabeth, Pollyanna’s indiscretions have left us in a difficult position and now with your father's untimely death, our family is more vulnerable than ever. However, our Southern neighbors offered to help us solidify our place in this land once and for all. With an alliance that will make us one. This alliance shall be achieved with your marriage to their Prince.” Betty freezes. Time seems to have stopped and the golden walls start to close in on her. 

 

“Princess, are you alright?” Lord Andrews’ voice is gentle and worried. 

 

_ Take a deep breath and be strong.  _ She repeats in her head.

 

“Yes, Lord Andrews. Just surprised, that's all.” She forces a smile that she's sure isn't convincing anyone. 

 

“Worry not, Princess. Your mother knows what is best for the kingdom, and for you.” Betty looks up to the other lord, to see a huge and pleased smile plastered there.

 

“I know, Lord Evernever. I know.” She smiles again, and just as she's about to speak again, her mother beats her to it. 

 

“That will be all, Elizabeth. I shall come to you once the formalities are all over.” 

 

As she bows her head to her Mother, Betty's heart beats wildly on her chest, the words echoing on her head. 

 

_ This alliance shall be achieved with your marriage to their Prince.  _

 

_ Your marriage to their Prince _ . 

 

The doors close behind her and she just runs. She runs as fast as she can, away from her mother, away from that room, away from what is set to be her future. Betty only stops once she's at the stables, the only place that still seems to bring her any kind of peace. She doesn’t mind the stares from the workers, grabbing a brush and going inside the bay where they keep Caramel, the beautiful brown mare her father had given her for her fifteen birthday, two years ago. 

 

The constant gesture of brushing distracts her troubled mind and even if only for a second, she turns it off all together, pretending to be anyone other than who she really is. It only lasts for a moment because a voice interrupts her. 

 

“I thought I may find you here.” Polly. With everything, she’d nearly forgotten her sister had returned from the convent where she had been for the past few months. Her sister's voice is soft, as she turns around, Betty sees she's smiling, but it doesn't reach her eyes, seeming somewhat forced. She knows that smile, she’d just done it. “Taken by the way Mother is out of her mind looking for you and the fact that you're hiding here, I assume she told you.” Her sister says examining her nails, nonchalantly. 

 

Betty drops Caramel's brush. “You knew?!” 

 

“Of course. I'm the one who pitched the idea. Actually, I only reminded Mother of it. Father was the one who first thought of it. You know what they’ve always said. We're a small kingdom, Betty. A small kingdom with no men left to rule and with a civil war looming over all of our heads. One of us was always going to have to go through this.” Her tone is neutral, unconcerned, almost…  _ cold _ and Betty can't understand why her sister is being like this to her. 

 

“Why didn't you tell me, Polly?” Polly crosses her arms, her face changing completely from the fake niceness she's shown so far. 

 

“You can't be daddy's little girl forever, Betty. It's time you learn how cruel this life really is.” With that, she walks away leaving Betty with feelings that run the gamut of anger to sadness to despair. 

 

It doesn't take long for her mother to find her in the stables, undoubtedly because of Polly. 

 

“Dear God, Elizabeth. The stables?! Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?” Betty takes a deep breath, thinking about the best way to deal with this. Her father always told her the best way to approach anything, was with a calm and collected head. 

 

“Eldervair, Mother?” At that, the mighty Queen Alice actually shrugs. 

 

“They’re not as bad as you think.” 

 

“Not as bad as I think? What about all the things we’ve heard about them? How ruthless their army of Serpents are, raging war to gain territory and power? How about the bloodshed caused by their Queen years ago when she ordered the death of an entire order of priests?” Her mother’s face remains impassive. 

 

“Well, Gladys always had a flare for drama, that was all a bunch of theatrics. As for the Serpents, you really don’t know what you are talking about.” Her coolness, as if she was debating next week’s floral arrangements, nearly drives Betty crazy. 

 

“I know what I’m talking about because Father told me those things!” The mention of her father makes something change on the Queen’s face. 

 

“Your father agreed to this before he died. The decision has been made. I will not spend another moment arguing with you in this fetid stable. Come at once. There’s a lot that needs to be done and prepared for the wedding.” 

 

\--

 

For the next weeks, between flowers, invitations, guests, food, gifts, and accomodations, Betty feels like someone has taken over her body as she’s dragged around the palace by her mother and the Noble Ladies involved in the arrangements. 

 

Now, she sits inside the Women Room, a place she always disliked because of its meaning--that women should be apart from the men, having to distract themselves as they made their decisions and plays for power--alone for the first time in days as the Queen and the Ladies go to see something concerning the food in the kitchens. 

 

“Betty?” She closes her eyes upon hearing her sister’s voice. “Betty, come with me.” Polly says standing in front of her,shadowing the sun that had been warming her. “You look like you could use a break from all this.” Her sister is smiling again, and for a second, she remembers when they were younger and used to like being around each other, with that in mind, she accepts the hand Polly’s offering her.   

 

Her sister takes her upstairs to the first floor. 

 

"Wait until you see it," her sister announces opening the doors with a grand gesture. As Betty sees what's inside, her legs fail under her and she needs to lean against the wall for support. "Betty? Isn't your wedding dress lovely?" 

 

The sight of the dress makes everything too real, too sudden, and it's too much.  _ Wedding dress.  _ No. She can't do this. She can't get married. 

 

"Oh, sister! You're crying happy tears!" Betty manages to focus enough to see Polly standing in front of her, grinning. 

 

“Why are you doing this? Why?!” She demands, standing up and something on her face makes Polly take a step back. “You know what this means!” She yells. “You of all people should know what this feels like and you have the nerve to stand here, mocking me like this? Why are you so happy to see me miserable? What have I ever done to you?!” She never gets an answer because suddenly her mother, the Ladies and even some maids are there, trying to understand what all the screaming is about. 

 

“Elizabeth! Calm down immediately! What is the meaning of this?” All the weight of the past weeks comes crashing down on her and Betty cries again. “Leave us.” The Queen says with a strong voice, and instantly, everyone starts leaving the hallway. “You stay, Pollyanna.” She takes Betty by the arm, entering the room with the dress, and closing the door so they can have just a moment of privacy, even if any sort of privacy in this life is only an illusion. “Which one of you girls is going to tell me what just happened?” 

 

“I was only showing her the wedding dress,” Polly says with her polite, good girl voice, sounding as innocent as ever, as opposed to how mean and fake she had sounded a few minutes ago. 

 

“Elizabeth?” Betty looks around the room and the situation before her is one she saw many times before growing up. Her mother sitting down on a chair, with Polly by her side, as she stands in front of them both, almost like a defendant in front of the judge.

 

After seventeen years, she knows better than to say anything about her sister to her mother. Polly is the favorite, the first-born, the one her mother made to her own image. It was useless to say anything against her. So, instead, Betty decides to tell her mother the truth. 

 

“Mother. Please. Don’t make me so this. I don’t want to marry a stranger.” 

 

“It's amusing, really. You seem to think you have a choice in the matter.” Her sister says viciously from her place, watching the exchange. 

 

“Go back to your ladies in waiting, Polly.” Her mother orders sharpily, and Polly is gone in a moment, not daring to question the queen. No. That was usually Betty’s role. 

 

She takes a deep breath. “Mother, we can figure something out. There must be another way to protect the throne.” Betty pleads, trying to take her mother's hand but as she reaches for her, the Queen gets up abruptly, pushing away from her.

 

“Stop. That's enough, Elizabeth.” Alice the Queen, not the mother, says with cold eyes and a sneer that chills her to the bone. “It's settled. Not only you are going to marry the Serpent Prince, but you will love him and be the perfect Princess I’ve taught you to be. Do you understand me?” 

 

“Please, mother. Don't make me do this. Please.” Alice takes one look at her, before shaking her head. 

 

“Get over yourself, Elizabeth. This is what women are made for. Why should you be any different? This is your duty. Stop crying, pull yourself together. You're going to give him everything. Your life, your body, your soul, and even your children when the time comes. It's the only way for us to preserve the throne and our legacy.” 

 

The Queen leaves the room, and Betty stays there frozen, looking at what’s to be her wedding dress with tears rolling down her face. As her mother’s words play on loop in her head, she thinks of her father, wondering if this would be happening were he still alive. She walks to the window with the view of the garden before her, and it brings back a memory from not so long ago. 

 

_ It had been a hot summer day, and her father had indulged her on a walk through the gardens during their regular time together. At some point, she asked him a question.  _

 

_ “Daddy, how do you do it? Be a king, ruling over and taking care of so many people and so many things all the time?” Her father had laughed for a moment, shaking his head.  _

 

_ “My darling daughter, you make it sound so simple. I wasn’t always like this, I didn’t want to be king when I was young, and when my time came I had a lot to learn. However, out of everything I was taught, I never forgot what my grandfather once told me. He said that the golden rule for doing your duty without pain, was to do something that you don’t want to do everyday and that was how one acquired the habit of duty.”  _

 

Her mother said it so. This is her duty. It isn't how she'd expected to honor her father's name, but if this is what she has to do, than she is going to do it. Not for her mother, not because of some treaty in which she had been traded like propriety. But because it is what her father taught her. 

 

Do one thing you don't want to do everyday. That's what she has to do. 

 

With a final look at garden, Betty takes a deep breath, and walks away from her hopes and dreams for her future. Her future was no longer hers. She has a duty to fulfill. 

  
  


Sitting in front of her mother, Betty feels like a five-year-old taking etiquette lessons.

 

"Tell me, Betty. What have you learned about the royal family of Eldervair?" Sighing, she begins reciting what she memorized from the pages she'd read over and over again for the past two weeks. 

 

"The King is Forsythe the Second. He has been on the throne since his father, King Forsythe the First died when he was twenty years old. The Pendleton line has ruled Eldervair for over a century, and so far there hasn't been anyone more powerful than their family." Alice nods.

 

"Good. And why is that?" Her mother questions as if she was one of her teachers, and Betty rolls her eyes. "Elizabeth! Do not roll your eyes at me. It's rude and unlady. Now answer my question." 

 

Again, Betty takes a deep breath. "Over one hundred years ago, the Pendleton line emerged as winners from a civil war that nearly destroyed the Southside. Ever since, all the Lords and families have sworn their allegiance to them. Recently, their power was strengthened because of the many deals they've made with their neighbors, who aren't brave or stupid enough to dare and go against the Serpent King and his army of vipers." Her mother's face is stern, but she doesn't comment on Betty's words, moving on to the next question.

 

"What about the royal family?" 

 

"King Forsythe and late Queen Gladys had two children, Prince Forsythe the Third and Princess Forsythia. Why do they all have the same strange name?" Betty asks before she can really think and obviously it angers her mother. 

 

"Elizabeth! For Christ's sake! You better stop this behavior right now. I will not tolerate any kind of acting up at next week's dinner. Do you understand? Every important person from both Riverdale and Eldervair will be inside these walls and you will behave. Am I clear?" 

 

"Yes, mother." Alice leaves her after she replies, looking exhausted like she always does after spending even if only a moment with Betty. Over the years, she always tried to understand why her mother treated her in such a cold way. 

 

She opened the file containing all the information she had just recited to her mother about Eldervair, stopping on the page about the Prince. Her future husband. 

 

"Husband." She says out loud, testing the word but it just feels foreign on her mouth, heavy and bitter. 

 

Whoever compiled this failed to add any painting of the Prince or his family, leaving her to wonder what he looks like. He on the other hand, had received a full portrayal of her, sent along their Embassador with a taste of the best things Riverdale had to offer. 

 

Other than the few lines on his knight-like qualities and great successes as a leader in his father's army and all the rumors she's heard over the years, she knows nothing about him. To think that she's about to spend the rest of her life next to a total stranger troubles her deeply, so Betty goes back to her room, changes her clothes and goes for a ride on Caramel. 

 

\--

 

Unlike the weeks before, the next few days run past her and before she realizes, the entourage from Eldervair is crossing the palace walls. It's a scary sight. The retinue is completely flanked by soldiers covered from head to toe in black armory, carrying equally black banners with the symbol of the royal family, an intimidating green snake entwined in a silver sword. For a moment, she stays there at the window, entranced by the black parade. The footsoldiers are followed by knights on black horses, and she’s surprised to see a woman among them. Behind the knights come the dignitaries, their horses different and lacking the threatening spike armor.

 

“Princess,” Lady Grundy says from behind her, making her remember she’s in a room full of people. “The Queen will be highly displeased if she sees you at the window. You know tradition demands you to only see the Prince later tonight, during the engagement dinner.” 

 

“That doesn’t even make sense,” she comments, eyes still on the window. 

 

“Tradition doesn’t need to make sense.” Betty feels hands on her shoulders, and Lady Grundy guides her away from the window. “Your bath is ready, come now.” She’s to spend the entire day getting ready for dinner tonight with Eldervair’s Royal Family, which looks a lot like all the pampering her father used to have the horses go through before they were sold. 

 

As she enters the joining room where her bath is, Betty notices the rose petals in the water and a different, sweeter, smell. “Ethel?” She calls her head maid. “Why are there roses in here?” Her bath had always been prepared with lavender. 

 

“Oh, the Queen ordered the change. Roses and Vanilla are more… enticing. I think that’s the word she used.” The girl replies with a smile and Betty simply doesn’t have the heart or the strength to say anything. 

 

Throughout the day, Betty is completely groomed. From her nails, to her hair, to every inch of her skin. When the maids are over, and she’s dressed in a pink gown her mother had the seamstresses make especially for this occasion, she almost feels like a different person. The woman in the mirror doesn’t really look like her, but like the impeccable princess her mother always dreamed of making her into. 

 

“Now what?” She asks to no one in particular. Lady Grundy, as usual, puts a hand on her arm. 

 

“Now we wait for one of the maids to come for you. Like the Queen requested, you will make an entrance by being the last one to enter the banquet room, once every guest is on their seat.” As if this wasn’t all a terrible nightmare, her mother still wanted theatrics. Betty never tried to voice her opinion, not after that last time, in front of her wedding dress. 

 

“I’d like to stay alone until I have to go, please.” Although with worry on her face, Geraldine nods, ordering everyone to leave the room. 

 

“Good luck, Princess.” She says before bowing her head and leaving as well. 

 

The room seems bigger and taller now that she's alone, the sound of the silence screaming in her ears, almost as loud as the sound of her thoughts. Growing up, Betty had always felt somewhat alone between these well-decorated walls, but ever since Polly turned into a familiar stranger and her father’s death, that loneliness had reached a whole new level. And now? It started to look like this was going to be all she knew for the rest of her life. 

 

A knock on the door broke her out from her thoughts.

 

"Come in." 

 

"Princess." The familiar voice made her turn around, a smile finding its way to her face for the first time in weeks. 

 

"Archie!" She exclaimed, moving to hug him as he entered the room. "I didn't know you were back!" Betty continues, letting go of him.

 

"Betty. I arrived last night. My dad said this was very important and I figured you could use a friendly face. I'm very sorry about your father." Archie was the only son of Lord Andrews. Betty had known him all her life and they had been inseparable up until he had joined the army at the young age of sixteen, eager to serve his country. 

 

"Thank you. Really." She's about to hug him again when something changes on his face.

 

"I'm supposed to take you to the banquet hall." His words stop her.

 

“Oh.” Betty isn’t sure if his familiar face is helping or making things worse right now. She takes a deep breath, putting on her best face. “Alright. I’m ready.” She says walking towards the door, but suddenly, his hand stops her. 

 

“Betty, are you sure you want to do this? These Serpents, they are not good people, they’re dangerous.” His question makes something inside her snap.

 

"It's not like I have a choice, Archie! My father is dead! And my sister is unsuitable to be married off to anyone. There’s no one to take on the crown, and soon the Blossoms will come and they will want to claim the throne, and you know very well they will kill anyone who dares to stand in their way. This is the only way.” Archie shakes his head, and he takes Betty’s hand into his. 

 

“No it’s not. You could take the crown.” To Betty, the meaning of his words is foreign, having never been considered by her. 

 

“Have you lost your mind or simply forgotten our history classes? Riverdale has always had a King, a man on the throne.” Before he can argue, she raises a hand. “Archie, please. This is the only way. I’m already late. I must go before my mother comes after me.” Without waiting for his reply, she opens the door, taking a deep breath and putting herself together as she walks down the hallway.

 

As the sound of music, laughter and conversation grows louder, the pit on her stomach deepens. Following her mother's commands, she looks flawless. Innocent and docile, but attractive and enticing at the same time. The perfect princess. 

 

The guards on the outside of the banquet hall bow their heads at her arrival, opening the doors. 

 

As she sets foot on the staircase, the music fades and the commotion of voices seems to tune down until silence is all she can hear. Her mother hurries from her seat, to come and stand in front of the stairs, and despite having an elegant smile on her face, her eyes shine with familiar disapproval, most likely because of her delay or because of anything else, since everything she did seemed to displease her mother. The Queen is about to offer her a hand, when a tall man gets up from the table as well. 

 

He's wearing black from head to toe, which makes his olive skin contrast even more with his dark hair, bringing out his ocean blue eyes. She has never seen him before, and his appearance strikes her at first, but then Betty sees the snake insignia on his chest, and she reminds all of the things she's heard from Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third, Duke of the Southside, Prince of Eldervair, her soon-to-be husband. 

 

“Elizabeth.” Her mother's whisper is vicious and cold as are her eyes and Betty realizes the Prince is offering her his hand. For a brief second, while on the steps, she's taller than him and it makes her wonder about a world where women could be free to make their own choices instead of being pawned around like some worthless and mindless chess piece. 

 

_ Not only you are going to marry the Serpent Prince, but you're going to give him everything, your life, your body, your soul, and even your children when the time comes. You will be the perfect princess I taught you to be. It's the only way for us to preserve the throne and our legacy. _

 

With her mother's words screaming in her head, Betty offers him a small polite smile and as she takes his hand, she bows her head, not looking away from his eyes as she does so, trying to save the last of her dignity.

 

His eyes seem to spark for an instant, but it's gone before she can think about it. “Can I have this dance, m‘lady?” His low and gravelly voice make her knees go weak for no particular reason, her heart beating faster as he guides her through the crowd. She can feel every eye in the room looking at them, but she can’t help but keep her eyes on his dark and elegant form as she follows him to the center of the ballroom.  

 

They stand in front of each other, and with a nod from him, the music begins, and they both bow to one another, before coming closer. He offers her his hand yet again, while the other finds its way to the back of her waist. They waltz in silence, and whenever she looks at him, her thoughts whirlwind, so she tries her best to keep a straight face and focus. Suddenly, he leans in, speaking on her ear.

 

“You're going to hurt your eyes, if you're going to glare at me for the next few decades,  _ Princess. _ ” His husky voice has a mocking tone to it as he continues. “Better lighten up a little.”

 

The mockery is evident on his face as he raises his head to look at her. Something in his expression pushes her to break every single protocol she ever learned and Betty finds it in herself to answer back. 

 

“I would be lighting up like a bonfire if I wasn’t here, waltzing with you, Sir.” The surprise is clear in his eyes as she replies and as he smiles, it’s her turn to be surprised. 

 

“Oh?” His one word question, although sarcastic, gives her room to reply and voice her thoughts in an unexpected way and she doesn’t miss the chance. 

 

“Yes. As a matter of fact, there’s a lot I would rather be doing right now.” The prince laughs, shaking his head. 

 

“Well, I wouldn’t want to get in your way then.” With that, he steps away from her and bowing his head, he takes her hand, pressing a kiss on the back of it. “Have a lovely evening, Princess.” With that and a small smile, he walks away, leaving her standing there. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... I'm back with a new chapter! Thank you all so much for all the comments (I'll reply to them soon, pinky promise.), bookmarks and kudos!  
> A special thanks to Cyd (@squids) my wonderful and awesome beta for everything!
> 
> I hope you all like this!

 

* * *

 

_"All the right moves and all the right faces, so yeah, we're going down. (...) Everybody knows, yeah, we're going down."_

 

Betty would have stood there looking stupid if Lord Andrews hadn't swooped in asking her for the next dance. Thankfully, some of the guest began to dance too, and the awkwardness began to fade away.

 

While dancing however, she didn't miss the way her mother was watching her with hawk eyes, undoubtedly waiting to reprimand her yet again. Which is why, when Archie appeared next to them, she didn't refuse another dance, deciding that even if she wasn’t very much a fan of dancing, it would be better than facing her mother right now.

 

"You look very beautiful, Princess."

 

"Thank you, Second Lieutenant Andrews," she replies mockingly, faking a formal tone that makes him laugh.

 

"I hope this means you forgive me for earlier… you know I tend to put my foot in my mouth more often than I'd like." Offering him a smile, she nodded.

 

“I’m sorry, too. I guess tonight I’m more on the edge than I thought I’d be.” Almost on cue, the musicians began to play a popular, cheerful song, one that was very familiar to them both.

 

“Well, why don’t we dance you away from the edge, then?” He asked, moving his feet to the beat while letting go of her hands to clap his own. Archie knew she wasn’t fond of dancing, but he also knew she wasn’t going to say no.

 

Needing the distraction, Betty just rolled her eyes before grabbing some of the dress in her hands to free her legs so she could move in the way they had learned years ago.

 

Soon, other people joined them, a sudden festivity filling the room as the couples entered the well-known formation of standing in line before moving around in circles while they exchanged their pairings repeatedly. As the music continued and the Princess moved, laughing as she crossed arms with the other dancers, looking happy and carefree, many were stuck looking at her, including a pair of deep blue eyes.

 

Betty danced until the herald called everyone back to the banquet table, now filled with fine and luxurious dishes--the best Riverdale could offer. Much to her dismay, she was placed right in front of the Prince, who gave a small nod as she was seated, the small smirk from before on his face making it look like he was enjoying himself. She just looked away, pretending to appreciate the opulent porcelain only used for important occasions.  

 

Once everyone was seated, the Queen stands up beside her, a glass of wine on her hand.

 

“As you all know,” she began as everyone fell silent, “we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of our countries, expressed in the engagement of Prince Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third of Eldervair to Princess Elizabeth Cooper of Riverdale. For many years rivalry stood between us like a stone wall, but no more! Today, those walls come down as we become one!” A roar of applause and celebration commences as the Southsiders celebrate in their own way her mother’s words, that goes against the Riverdalian custom of just raising their glasses in silence.

 

She had known their customs would be different, but to see an entire room be that loud and expressive surprised her. Unlike her, the Queen seems unfazed by it, actually smiling at the whole exchange. Across from her mother, a man she recognizes as the King of Eldervair stands up too, also holding his glass.

 

“It's a good thing that Queen Alice is familiar with the Southside ways," he began, his strong voice echoing through the hall. "Otherwise I don't think those walls she mentioned would be going anywhere after all this noise. I must say, however, it's nothing you should be concerned about, Princess Elizabeth." Her head snaps up as he says her name, and when she looks at him, he's smiling. "We are all rude, loud, and some may say even a tad barbaric, but deep down, we Serpents are good people. Now, in true Riverdale style, without much noise, if you can all raise your glasses, let's toast to the future. To our future King and Queen of the United Kingdom of Eldervair and Riverdale!" As everyone raises their chalices saluting the King's speech, the Prince gives her another smirk, looking completely entertained and utterly satisfied.

 

Three hours and ten courses later, the dinner was finally over and the guests were invited to go to another room for a taste of the wine made from the grapes that grew on the banks of Sweetwater River, once known as the best of the best.

 

It was while the guests were leaving from the banquet that Betty saw an opportunity to escape. She easily found her way to the garden, using a secret passage she’d used all the time when she was younger and trying to runaway from her mother or Polly or both. She sat on a bench, enjoying the cold night air and the stars shining above, as all she could hear for the first time tonight was the silence surrounding her and the sporadic chirp of crickets.

 

It was a strange smell along with footsteps that disturbed the serenity moments later. She sat up, imagining it was her mother, she braced herself for the reprimand of a lifetime. However, as Betty turned around, she was surprised to see the Prince.

 

He looked equally surprised for a moment before smiling. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

 

"I should be the one asking you that. This garden is off limits to guests." Again, and much to her annoyance, he laughed.

 

"But that's just it, isn't it? I'm not just one of the guests. I’m your future beloved husband. So, why don’t you show me all the best hiding spots in this palace of yours?” The teasing tone in his voice makes her snap;standing up, she faces him.

 

“God!” she half yells, exasperated. “Can’t you just go away? Right now, you and I are nothing but strangers. I don’t have to do anything,” she says, hoping her boldness and rudeness will be enough to make him go away again, consequences be damned.

 

“Wow. Where’s the good Princess I just saw sitting across from me during dinner?” he mocks again, but this time, the words hit her and she wonders exactly what she’s doing here, jeopardizing her mother’s deal with her defiance.

 

“That good Princess has had enough of people for today.” At her reply, the Prince studies her for a moment before raising his hand to take a drag from the cigarette she’d smelled when he arrived.

 

“People can definitely be overwhelming., he comments quietly, almost to himself, shaking his head and not smirking for the first time since she saw him. “Points for the hiding spot, though. This place is very beautiful,” the Prince says looking around. Betty knows this place is beautiful. It’s one of her favorite places in all of the palace, a place that’s part of some of her best memories. Him being here is just ruining that.

 

“What can I say? We have good gardeners,” she spits back, crossing her arms and facing him in a way that would infuriate her mother if she were here. He watches her face once again, this time, tilting his head slightly.

 

“Who are you?” he asks with something she can’t identify in his voice. His question is at least confusing, but downright ridiculous. Betty is about to reply in an equally ridiculous way, when he speaks again. “Are you that good Princess I watched all night, or this…” He moves his finger, pointing at her. “...mouthy unruly girl standing in front of me right now?” The Prince seems to be thinking about his own question, but just as she’s going to speak, he cuts her off. Again. “Don’t answer that. Any answer will take all the fun away. Consider me officially interested, Princess.” His eyes stay on her for just another moment, and then he bows his head. “Have a good night, m’lady.” For the second time, he leaves her standing there alone.

 

After some time to cool off, when Betty goes back inside, the Prince is nowhere to be seen, thank heavens. Her mother is by her side in an instant, demanding to know where she was and how could she have left the guests, disappearing without a word.

 

“I apologize, Mother. I guess the dinner left me somewhat indisposed,” she lies easily, putting a hand on her abdomen for better effect.

 

“Indisposed? You better retire to your chambers, then. Tomorrow will be a long day and you must be well-rested and perfect,” the Queen says in a natural way, almost smiling and Betty immediately knows there’s a reason to this easy agreement because never in a million years would her mother let her get away with going to bed early while they’re entertaining guests.

 

“What’s tomorrow?” The smile grows on her mother’s face.

 

“Well, since the wedding is a week from tonight, the King and I agree that it would be nice if you and the Prince spent some time together, to get to know each other better.” The way she says it makes it sound like it’s some great idea, resulting from some kind of profound epiphany. “Isn’t it wonderful? I thought it would make you happy, especially since it’s an opportunity most women don’t have and you’re always babbling about the unfair way women are treated…” The Queen trails off, looking expectantly at Betty.

 

She smiles, “it’s indeed a great opportunity, Mother.”

 

“I know, right? That’s what I said when the Prince pitched it to the King and I.” _Wait, what?_

 

“The Prince?” she asks, trying her best to keep a straight face.

 

“Yes, Elizabeth, the Prince. You should definitely get some rest. The long night is making you slow.” At the insult, her mother adds injury, patting her head like she was a dog. “You can go now, dear. Sleep well.”

 

Too early the next morning, her maids were waking her up to get her ready for breakfast with the Royal family of Eldervair. Her mother is there too, coordinating what she should wear and what they should do with her hair. According to her mother, this breakfast was a better way for them to get to know each other because without being surrounded by guests it’ll be something closer to normal. Once Betty’s finally ready, normal is the last thing she feels.

 

When Betty arrives, it’s only her mother and the King. She bows her head respectfully as she sits down and she can’t help but think the table looks gigantic for only four people; there’s enough food to feed over half of last night guests.

 

“I apologize for my son, Princess,” the King says once she’s seated. “In the mornings, he always spars with one of the soldiers. He should be here soon.” Just as she smiles and nods, her mother speaks.

 

“Oh, no need to apologize. He’ll get here when he gets here.” _Right_ , Betty says in her head. He’s a man, and man can be and do whatever they please, including being late.

 

The Prince arrives twenty minutes later. “Father. Queen Alice,” he bows his head to her mother, before turning to her and doing the same. “Princess. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

 

“Of course not,” her mother replies, her eyes shining as she smiles at him. “Right, Elizabeth?” Betty puts on a smile.

 

“Of course!” Her voice is sweet and her mother seems pleased for once as she orders the maids to start serving them breakfast. There’s a tension between her and the Prince as he sits across from her, neither of them saying anything.

 

“So, Princess,” the King begins after a moment, “your mother told me you’re very fond of sewing and painting.” She stares at her mother for a second, before smiling and answering.

 

“Yes,” but what she really wants to say is no, because she’s not actually fond of the activities. She's never been fond of those things, much to her mother's displeasure.

 

"What about you, Forsythe? What do you like to do in your spare time?" Before the Prince can reply, his father speaks for him.

 

"Oh, my boy doesn't have time to spare. He spends most of his time either with his soldiers or with our advisors learning all he needs for when the time comes for him to take over as the great Serpent King."

 

Instead of saying anything, all the Prince does is take a beignet from a plate, eating it in silence.

 

The meal continues like that, with both of their parents working hard to make small conversation between them and while she's compelled by her mother's cold stares to cooperate, the Prince barely makes an effort.

 

Betty hoped that once they were done, this torture would be over, but just as the maids are collecting their plates her mother speaks. "Elizabeth, the King and I were talking before you and the Prince arrived and we thought it could be a good idea if you both went on a walk together. With chaperones, of course, but no one will disturb the two of you."

 

Less than an hour later, Betty finds herself walking through the palace fields with the Prince by her side. A few meters behind them are two soldiers - one from the palace and the other from Eldervair - and two of her mother’s most trusted ladies-in-waiting. They walk in silence. After some time, she’s tired of how her dress trails around her, making her movements somewhat restrained. Usually, when she walked around, she’d use some boots and dresses that were more practical, but her mother considered those outfits to be unsuitable for this particular occasion.

 

“I would suggest going back inside, but I’m afraid my father and your mother wouldn’t be pleased,” the Prince says unexpectedly, making her look at him for the first time since they left the palace. His face is neutral and almost sympathetic and Betty shakes her head at how condescending he sounds and looks.

 

“No, you wouldn’t. This was your idea,” she replies quietly, not wanting her mother’s spies to hear what she’s saying. The Prince shrugs.

 

“Well, you’re right. This was my idea. I did tell you last night to consider me interested. I thought this could be a good way for us to get to know each other. So, sewing and painting?" He actually sounds curious which makes _her_ curious as to why he's doing this, but she’s irritated at the same time because _he's_ doing this.

 

"Actually, no. I hate sewing and I can't draw a straight line to save my life, let alone paint anything. Those are my sister's talents. My mother doesn’t approve of other talents." She isn't sure of why she's telling him the truth. Maybe because a small part of her expects him to be disappointed and displeased enough to not want to marry her.

 

"What do you enjoy doing then?" Betty knows her mother won't like this, but she still doesn't lie.

 

"I like reading,” she answers after a moment, hesitantly. “And… horseback riding.”

 

“I fail to see the issue. There’s nothing wrong with reading and riding. If anything a well-read woman is appreciated in most circles,” he offers, but she shakes her head.

 

“I’m not talking about novels and poetry. I mean books on politics, philosophy. The sort of thing that isn’t appropriate for women, especially not for a Princess.” She looks down, kicking a stone with her white satin shoe thinking of the many times people had told her those subjects were not proper.

 

"You grow more fascinating by the minute, Princess Elizabeth.”

 

“Is everything some antic to you?” Betty demands, his tone making her walls go back up even taller as she abandons any chance at a normal conversation with him. “I don’t know why I even tried.” She hurries up to walk in front of him, hoping he understands that whatever conversation they were having is over.  

 

It’s while she’s having dinner later, alone because she isn’t allowed into the meeting her mother, the Prince and the King are having with advisors from both Riverdale and Eldervair to further discuss the wedding and what it will mean for the kingdoms, that she’s informed that she’s to accompany the Prince on a ride in the morning. It leaves her mind restless and not even the joy she always feels upon thinking about riding Caramel can make her feel at ease. Betty goes to her chambers, wondering how on Earth she is supposed to spend the rest of her life with a man when she dreads spending another moment with him.

 

She arrives early at the stables to brush Caramel before they go anywhere. With all that happened in the past week, she’s barely had any time to come here.

 

“Hi, sweet girl.” Her faithful companion seems to recognize her voice, turning it’s head to her. As she moves to grab the brush hanging on the wall, Caramel bumps her head on her arm, making Betty smile. “Someone’s eager today, huh?” Almost like a reply, the horse bumps her arm again and Betty reaches inside the bag full of apples on her other arm. “Here you go.”

 

Three apples and one full brushing session later, Betty steps back to let the stable men strap her side-saddle on Caramel. Then, they lead the horse out and help her mount. She’s all set when she sees a group with black horses approaching the stables. The Prince and his men. Great. She leans against Caramel, stroking her head. “Lend me some of your patience, girl. I’m going to need it.”

 

When the Prince stops a few feet away from her, he can’t stop staring. Since her mother’s vultures stayed behind today and they’ll be escorted by his people, Betty doesn’t see why she should be quiet, especially when she seemed to entertain him so much.

 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” The Prince laughs.

 

“Good morning to you too, sunshine.” Betty shakes her head as he eyes her again, this time, deliberately. So much for patience.

 

“What?” She asks, expecting one of his usual comebacks, followed by that annoying smirk.

 

“Nothing,” he says petting his horse in a gentle way that it’s almost comical, taking by how intimidating the animal looks. “We should get going. Come on.”

 

Betty follows, already frustrated and the day has barely begun. As they ride, she’s surprised to see there’s a woman on the entourage wearing pants and riding like a man. She has never seen such a thing in Riverdale and she can take her eyes from her. That is, until the woman looks at her, as if sensing she had been staring. Betty looks away, tapping her feet to make Caramel move to the opposite side of the group, closer to where the Prince was.

 

They ride in silence, save for the laughter coming from their escorts that, unlike her mother’s chaperones from yesterday, don’t seem to have a problem with being real people instead of breathing and walking scarecrows. Betty looks at them again and upon seeing the carefree expression on the woman’s face as she laughs with the men, she can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be that… free.

 

“Her name is Antoinette,” the Prince’s voice surprises her.

 

“I didn’t know women were allowed on your army.” He offers her a small smile and something on his face seems different from all the times they’ve spoken before.  

 

“You see, for some, people and books are the same. Judgeable for their covers. To outsiders we are but a nation of hoodlums. However, we're more civil than people give us credit for. In Eldervair, things are different. What is suitable for men is also suitable for women." He pauses, hesitantly, as if choosing his next words. “Which is something I would have told you yesterday if I hadn’t acted in such a foolish way. It was brought to my attention that this… plight mustn’t be easy for you.”

 

Betty doesn’t understand what caused this sudden change in his attitude towards her and she finds herself divided. She had heard all about his charms and libertine ways and how he enjoyed partying whenever he wasn't on the battlefield with his men. She couldn't help but think that this, her, was anything but a means to an end and she would become just another name on his playbook. Maybe all this sympathy was a change in tactics since his previous attempts had not been exactly successful.

 

And yet, a small part of her wonders if maybe, just maybe, he came to the conclusion that the two of them will be forever tied by this arrangement and now he's trying to come to some sort of truce with her.

 

"I must say, you're quite eloquent, Your Royal Highness," she says despite her inner questioning. To say this isn't easy for her is the euphemism of the year.

 

"Look, I'm trying here, alright?" His reply sounds a little more annoyed, not at all calm and peaceful as it was moments ago.

 

"Maybe you shouldn't. Try, I mean. You said it yourself. This must not be easy and either way we're stuck. So let's not make matters worse by trying." She rides away, leaving him behind.

 

Just as she starts to finally enjoy the ride alone, a voice interrupts her.

 

“Men. So thick-headed, aren’t they?” Betty had been so distracted by the nature around her and the steady rhythm of Caramel, she didn’t even hear the other horse approaching. “I’m Toni Topaz.” As the realization dawns on her, she can’t stop staring at the woman.

 

“You? You are _the_ Toni Topaz? The great warrior that defeated the undefeatable champion of the Seaside’s army, Gregor the Terror?” Toni nods, smiling at her surprise.

 

“Well, he wasn’t that terrifying. Way too confident, and you know what they say, pride precedes the fall.” Betty nods, trying to wrap her head around the fact that one of the greatest warriors of the Southside was a woman. It changed what she knew about them and it made the Prince’s words gain more meaning.

 

“You’re a woman.” She finally says, even if it goes against the rules of politeness and etiquette. “My apologies if I’m being rude, Lady Topaz.”

 

“It’s Captain, actually. Captain Topaz. But please, call me Toni, Your Highness.”

 

“As long as you call me Betty,” she replies smiling and when the Captain smiles back, the two women reach common ground, despite their differences.

 

“Betty. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She’s about to say something else, when the men laugh out loud, making them both stare at them.

 

“Is it hard? To be a woman in an army of men?” Toni seems to think for a moment.  

 

“Well, not at home. The Serpents are my family and they never treated me as anything but an equal. However, it’s not the same whenever we leave the Southside. Most people don’t understand our ways.” Betty considers her , thinking that perhaps some good can come out of all this. Toni is the embodiment of a dream, the promise of what women can be if they aren’t chained to old traditions and outdated conventions.

 

“Hopefully one day Riverdale will change and be like Eldervair.”

 

“It can be. It’s a brand new beginning and there’s a lot you and Jughead can do.” _Jughead?_

 

“Jughead?” The weird name confuses her and Toni laughs a little.

 

“The Prince. Sorry. Force of habit. Rarely do we use his titles, he doesn’t like it, says he’s a soldier just like the rest of us, so we call him Jughead, a childhood joke.” Betty looks to the Prince, having a hard time imagining the pompous man she’s met being so… fair and even humble. “He’s not that bad, you know?” Toni says noticing the way she was looking at the Prince. “I can’t possibly imagine what this must be like for you, but trust me when I say it could be way worse. I’ve been around these lands enough to see what men in general do to women, especially if there’s a title or power of some sort involved. Jughead is thickheaded and stubborn, but he’s smart as hell. He loves reading and writing and I haven’t met someone as bright as him before. Besides, he has a heart of gold underneath that annoying smirk of his. Now, enough about men. What does one needs to do to have some fun around here?”

 

For the rest of the ride, Betty makes small talk with Toni, apart from the rest of the group and the Prince. Back to the palace, Toni’s words stay in her head. Had she been too hasty in judging the Prince’s sentiments as nothing but a scheme? Could she trust that there was more to him than a smirk and charm?

 

The wedding is just three days away. Looking out through her window at the moon, Betty knows that she doesn’t have much time to try and make this work. She doesn’t want to spend the rest of her life married to a stranger she hates. With that in mind, she searches her chambers for some paper and ink. Once done, she seals the letter and calls for Ethel.

 

“Can you take this to the Prince, please? It’s urgent.” Her maid smiles widely, eyes shining.

 

“Of course, Princess. Right away.” As she leaves, all Betty can do is wait and hope for a reply from the Prince.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you all for reading, commenting and kudoing this story, and most importantly thank you for the nomination for the 5th Bughead Fanfiction Awards! I'm humbled by your vote and I can't express how much it means to me.

* * *

 

_"I know things are looking up, but soon they'll take us down (...)"_

 

As she waits, Betty taps her feet nervously on the marble floor. There's a cold breeze and she regrets not bringing a scarf or even a blanket to throw over her arms. 

She should have thought about the cold. It's late and this late in the night the temperature is always colder. However, it's not like she's an expert in sneaking out. That would be Polly. Betty, on the other hand, has no idea of what she's doing. From sending that note, to being here, pacing in the garden alone, most likely waiting for the guards to find her and call the maids who would undoubtedly call Lady Grundy who would then call her mother, who would be obviously out of her mind in anger and ready to punish her accordingly. 

Indeed, she has no idea of what she's doing. It’s moments later that she hears footsteps. Turning around, she sees the Prince. He looks different not wearing an armor or the ceremonial robes he’s worn in their encounters thus far. Less mighty and royal and more open, more… human. Despite the trousers and leather jacket, it’s clear he’s wearing a nightshirt under it. Her message clearly caught him off guard.

"Is everything alright, Princess?" he asks, standing a few feet away from her and she notices how his hand is resting over a sword. 

"Yes," she replies studying his posture. "Why wouldn't it be?" The Prince seems to relax a little, moving his hand away from his weapon as he walks closer. 

"Well, you just didn't strike me as someone who would be interested in a rendezvous after the midnight patrol, that's all. Why am I here?" 

"I wanted to talk to you," she says simply, trying to keep herself together whilst thinking about what she's about to tell him. 

“About what? Our conversations haven’t been exactly… how can I say it… uh, forthcoming.” Yet again, he graces her with an understatement. 

“Yes. I’m afraid both of us are at fault for that,” she says, unable to bite her tongue in spite of the reason why she’s here. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to insult you, my Lord.” She adds, trying to focus and not have him _smirk_ her away.

“You shouldn’t apologize for speaking the truth, Princess.” He replies seriously, studying her face. “Now, what is it that you wanted to talk about?” 

Betty takes a deep breath before saying the words she’d been rehearsing in her head since sending him that message.

"I… I realized that this situation must not be ideal for you. I'm sure you, as someone who will be one of the most powerful kings this land has ever seen some day, never intended on marrying a stranger in some political scheme. However, I was thinking,  even in such circumstances, we don't need to hate each other." She pauses, taking a step forward. "All my life I saw women being nothing more than puppets, hanging on a man's arm looking beautiful, but without serving to actual purpose. And If I am to be nothing but a puppet, my Prince, at least I would like to be one that isn't so miserable. Forgive me if I'm being too bold or disrespectful. I know it's not a woman's place to tell a man what to do and if you wish, you may have my mother punish me for being insubordinate, but… I was hoping you and I could get into some sort of arrangement so we can make this,” she gestures between them, “work. Or at least bearable for you and I."  

Silence follows as she stops talking, the Prince's eyes never leaving her face as he seems to be mulling over her proclamation. When he finally opens his mouth to speak, Betty is waiting for the worst, certain this was a waste of time and that he will not tolerate her behavior. 

"You are bold, yes, but definitely not disrespectful.  I must say I find your honesty refreshing.” His words surprise her. 

“Really?” she can’t help but ask, seeing as he is the first man, other than her father, to say that her honesty is a good thing. 

The Prince smiles giving her a small nod. 

“Yes. As a Prince, there are not many people who are willing to speak their mind freely, especially if it means speaking against me. Even with those close to me, people I call friends, the crown I’m yet to wear hangs between me and them like an impenetrable barrier. Hence why you startled me so much. I’m not used to it, but... I do appreciate it.” He pauses, turning around, he sits on one of the marble benches and she sits too, keeping a respectable distance from him. “So, how do we do it? How do we make this work?” His tone is light and there’s a shadow of a smile on his relaxed face, showing an openness and sympathy she hadn’t seen before. 

“Hm…I… I’m not sure,” Betty says, sounding awfully like an uneducated woman. She didn’t expect this to go so well. “Truth be told, I wasn’t expecting this talk would work, so I’m afraid I didn’t consider anything past this point,” she explains half embarrassed, and the Prince smiles at her disconcert, shaking his head. 

“I believe the first thing I ought to do is change the opinion you have of me. I’m not that unapproachable. Furthermore, I think we have some points we both would like to add to this relationship,” he says the word in a weird way, almost tasting how it feels on his tongue and Betty can relate. 

“We could be friends,” she suggests after a moment. “I mean, friendship is always a good way to start.” _And heaven knows how much I need a friend,_ she adds to herself. Instead of replying, the Prince moves to take off his jacket. The action startles her and she nearly falls off the bench as she moves away forgetting how close to the end of it she was already. “What are you doing?” 

He offers her the jacket, folded in two. “Here. I can’t have a friend freeze to death.” _Oh._ Betty is stunned by the gesture and she hesitates. 

“It’s not that cold.”

“You’ve been caressing your arms since I arrived. Take it, please.” With a sigh, Betty takes the jacket  and slips it over her shoulders. As she does, the smell of leather and cloves along with some other spices she can’t recognize invade her nose and she can’t help but smile. 

“Thank you, my Lord,” she says bowing her head slightly. 

“Jughead,” he replies. “My friends call me Jughead.” The weird nickname Captain Topaz had told her earlier. 

“Thank you, Jughead.” Betty repeats with a smile. 

They sit there in silence for a moment and she wonders if he is, like her, trying to think of what to say. However, before either of them can say anything, they hear footsteps. 

She’s up in her feet in a second. “My god! The soldiers! I must go. Otherwise, I’ll be in a world of trouble if my mother finds out about this.” Hurriedly she takes off his jacket, handing it to him. "Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow." With a bow of her head, she runs through the rose bushes to the hidden passageway that had brought her to the garden. 

Thank goodness the palace hallways are empty, and she manages to return to her room without anyone seeing her. 

It takes her sometime to remove her dress without any help, but when she finally lies in her bed, the weight on her chest seems to have lessened a little. 

 

In the morning, she finds her mother alone at breakfast and is informed that the Prince and her will not see each other anymore before the ceremony, as tradition demands it.  

"Besides, the wedding is happening this Saturday." Queen Alice states as she drinks her tea. "Which means we only have two days and there's a lot to be done, Elizabeth." 

"Of course, mother." 

As she spends almost every waking hour surrounded by flowers, tulle, noblewomen and handmaidens running around like chickens, time flies away.

In a couple of hours, she's getting married. Through her window, she can see the people walking the palace grounds, waving white flags and flowers. She walks away from the view, wishing she too could be as happy as they are. Even though she had spoken with the Prince, this wedding still means that life as she'd known it is over.

The knowledge of what's expected of her doesn't ease at all how uncertain the future seems as she stands in front of the mirror in her wedding dress. She looks… not herself. The corset ties her waist in a way that makes it hard for her to breathe and her hair is pulled back on a impeccable bun so tight that will leave her with headaches for days to come. 

After Polly, her mother decided to have a new dress made. It's more exuberant than the first, with golden embroidery in the long sleeves, neckline and hem that make the white almost… whiter, if that's even possible. 

"You look perfect, Elizabeth," her mother says as she enters the room. "I knew this dress would make you look as a future queen should." She pauses, standing by her side and touching her hair lightly. "Are you ready?" 

_No._ "Yes, mother." The reply pleases her mother. 

"Perfect. We ought to get going. It's impolite to leave the guests waiting."

The wedding is taking place in the oldest church of Riverdale, a small chapel on the palace grounds. Outside, everything is, as always in Royal weddings, decorated in white lilies and orange blossoms, representing power, royalty, purity and fidelity. 

Everyone is gathered around the church, divided in two by a flower-covered path on the cobblestone walkway that leads to the church steps. 

Since the crowd blocks most of her view, it's only when she stands in front of the pathway that she sees him.

Standing there, his black attire contrasting with the archway of white flowers - like the Southsiders contrast with the crowd - and somehow he seems… taller, bigger than everyone else and for a moment, her heart starts to race at the thought of being his forever. 

In perfect timing, the musicians change their tune. Silence falls over the crowd and her mother tugs at her arm. "Breathe, Elizabeth," her mother whispers harshly by her side, her smile never faltering. 

Each step seems to take forever. The priests siding the pathway with crucifixes in their hands don't help either and her heart sounds loud in her ears, timing the whirlwind in her mind.

They're halfway through when her mother whispers again. "Straighten your back and look up." Betty puts on her best face doing as she's told.

Finally, they reach the archway and the music stops. As she stands in front of the Prince, they both bow their heads to each other and then to Lord Evernever, who is going to lead the ceremony as head of the Church of Riverdale. 

"Guests, citizens of Riverdale. We stand here today before God, to join this man, Prince Forsythe Pendleton Jones of the Southside, the Third of his name, and this woman, Princess Elizabeth Cooper of Riverdale, in holy matrimony. Being conceived and born in the mind of God, marriage is that sacrament which builds the community of the Church and of society. Betoken the beginning of a life marked by discipline and self-denial. If any man knows of any reason and can show just cause why they may not be joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace." 

No one cares say anything, the silence unwavering. With a nod, Lord Evernever continues, turning to the Prince.

"Do you take Princess Elizabeth as your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, until death do you part?" 

He doesn't hesitate. "I do." 

"Princess Elizabeth, do you take Prince Forsythe as your lawful husband, to have and to hold, to respect and obey, from this day forward until death do you part?"

"I do." 

With a gesture from Lord Evernever, King Forsythe hands the Prince a ring. Betty offers him her hand, hoping he doesn't notice the way she's been shaking. However, when he takes her hand, he looks at her and gives her a small, reassuring smile that help settling some of her nerves. 

She takes a deep breath as he begins to slide the ring on her finger. 

"I, Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third, duke of the Southside and Prince of Eldervair, take you, Princess Elizabeth Cooper of Riverdale as my wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, until death do us part."

Betty nods her head at him in acceptance of his words. 

"As a vessel of God's power and authority, I pronounce them to be husband and wife, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." 

As the cheers begin, Betty tries to force out a smile, overwhelmed by everything that just happened and by the fact that she's now a married woman. Suddenly, though, her thoughts stand still when she feels the Prince's hand on hers. As his fingers fit into the space between her fingers, she looks down at their intertwined hands and then up at his face. He offers her another smile. 

"Shall we?" he asks lowly. 

"Yes," she replies, nodding. 

With that, they start walking down through the crowd, and it's like her heart found its rhythm again, no longer beating fast enough to leave her chest.

\--

As they enter the banquet hall an hour or so later, Betty is amazed at how her mother had outdone herself. In all of her life, she had never seen such a luxurious feast. From the generous and exaggerated table to the decoration with white roses and golden accessories.

The Prince and her are directed to the center of the room, where two tall and imposing chairs, resembling thrones, have been set. They were to stay there to be greeted and congratulated by every one of the guests, who are still outside, waiting to be allowed in according to their family status. 

Apart from the Serpents standing by the walls like shadows, Betty and the Prince are alone. She looks at him from the corner of her eye a few times, but she's too weirded out to speak since he's her husband now. 

"Are you alright?" his voice surprises her. 

"Uh, yes. I… I'm fine." He looks at her for another moment before looking away, and she realizes he was waiting for her to say something more. "You?" The Prince turns to her again. "I mean, are you alright?" 

"Yes, one gets used to this sort of thing eventually." He gestures around and thinking back to their conversation, when he told her of how the crown weighed on his relationships, she wonders how it must have felt to grown up carrying such a responsibility. Perhaps she wasn't the only one familiar with being alone whilst surrounded by people. 

As the bell rings announcing the opening of the doors, Betty takes a deep breath, her best face perfectly placed. 

Her mother and King Forsythe are the first ones to enter, and they walk up to stand behind them. Their presence is meant to reinforce the alliance between the kingdoms through their children's marriage. With a gesture from the Queen, the herald bows and makes his first announcement. 

"The House of Blossom, of Riverdale." 

It was a sight to behold: the to be appellants to the throne, all dressed in shades of red, walking inside. However, the clan is down a member, their patriarch, the dreadful Clifford Blossom nowhere to be seen. His equally abominable wife takes a step forward, bowing her head with a smile that can only be described as derisive. 

“My Queen,” she says, raising her head and looking at Betty. “Elizabeth. Pretty. Congratulations on your nuptials.” Penelope’s cold and perpetually bored voice sends chills down her spine.

“Thank you, Lady Blossom,” she replies politely. 

“My husband sends his regards. He fell from a horse not two days ago and the doctor ordered him to be on bed rest for a week at least.” 

“Thank him in the name of the Royal family,” her mother says from behind her, making Penelope look at her for the first time. 

“Of course,” bowing again, Penelope continues. “My Queen.” With a gesture of her hand, her son, Jason Blossom takes a step forward, bowing his head to the prince. “Prince Forsythe. What an honor. Congratulations.” 

As always, any interactions with the Blossoms are nothing but a wicked game of lies and false sympathies, so their behavior doesn’t surprise Betty and it surely doesn’t surprise her mother. 

If he and his father can feel the palpable tension, they don’t say anything. Instead, the Prince simply nods, his serious face never changing. “Thanks.”  

“Please, accept this gift in the name of my family. It’s a bottle from our finest Maple Liqueur. Every year, we save an unopened bottle. This dates from eighteen years ago.” 

“The year our beloved Princess was born,” Penelope completes. “Oh, speaking of Princesses, how is Pollyana?” The sweetness on her voice is pure evil, and for a moment, Betty waits for her mother to explode. However, she smiles, posture unaltered. 

“Polly is doing great, thank you for asking.” 

“Wonderful. I should go mingle and stop monopolizing your attention,” she replies with a smile. “Cheryl, let Nana pay her respects and let’s move along.” As she nearly barks the order, Betty looks behind Jason to see his twin, Cheryl, helping the clan’s oldest member, Clifford’s mother, Roseanne. The sight of the elder woman only made Betty feel sadness. She’d seen before, paintings portraying how beautiful and mighty she’d once been, and now, she needed someone to steady her legs. 

“It’s our turn, Nana,” she hears Cheryl say with gentleness, guiding her grandmother to where Jason and Penelope had just been. Roseanne adjusts a monocle over her right eye, struggling to see.

“You look very nice, my dear. Just like Polly would have, had she not disobeyed your mother and father. But you see, there are rules. Darkness,” she says looking at the Prince, “brings evil things and the reckoning begins.” Before the old woman can say something else, Cheryl interjects. 

“I apologize. Nana’s head isn’t the same as it used to be and she used to dwell too much on old books from the times before,” she bows her head. “Congratulations to you both.” Turning to her grandmother, she taps her arm gently. “Let’s find you a place with a good view, Nana.” 

As they walk away, the Prince shakes his head. “Well, that was… something.”

“It always is where that family is concerned, Forsythe,” her mother comments quickly as the next family approaches them. The Evernevers. Lord Edgar and his wife, Evelyn. Betty had to force a smile out as she faced the woman. 

"Lady Evernever," Suddenly, the redhead takes Betty's hand between hers.

"Oh, Betty! How special this day is! May you emerge into the light of your destiny tonight. May you be blessed, may you be fruitful. That's our wish for you, Princess." Evelyn's words are like a bucket of cold water over her as she is once more reminded of what is seen as a woman's sacred duty. 

"Thank you, Lord and Lady Evernever." As they go, leaving their present, Betty can't help but avoid looking at the Prince again. 

The following guests were a blur of gifts and well-wishes. Her face was already beginning to hurt from all the smiling she’d been doing when Lord Andrews came by, with honest wishes of happiness and the best gift she’d received the entire night. He was alone since Archie, much to her dismay had been called on patrol with many other soldiers that were ensuring their safety as they were celebrating. 

“Princess. You look stunning. Undoubtedly your Father, our beloved late King, would be very proud were he here.” His words move her, and Betty feels tears sparkling in her eyes for a brief second. One deep breath later she replies. 

“Thank you, Lord Andrews.” Bowing, he offers her a long velvet box. Inside is a sword. It was a simple sword with a leather bound hilt and an unsuspicious blade, different from the ones the nobles liked with embedded jewels and golden notches. 

“This was your father’s first sword, Princess. He gave it to me when he invited me to be his right-hand man as a symbol of our friendship.” Tearing up again, Betty reaches out, gently touching the hilt, and it’s almost as if she could sense her father here with her. She looks up at Lord Andrews, knowing she should say something, thank him, but she feels like she can’t speak. 

“Lord Andrews,” The Prince suddenly speaks beside her. “Your heartfelt gift is something I’m sure neither I or the Princess will ever forget.” In an unusual gesture, the Prince bows his head in respect to Lord Andrews. “No words can really express what this means, but do let us know if there’s anything we can do for you. Thank you very much.”

“Indeed, Fred,” her mother begins. “Thank you for this.” Lord Andrews smiles and bows his head. 

“My Queen,” he repeats the gesture for the Prince, for her and for King Forsythe before walking away.

As her mother gets distracted speaking with the King about something regarding the next guests, Betty turns to Prince. 

“Thank you,” she whispers. He looks at her and nods with a shadow of a smile on his face. 

Once that part of the night is over, it’s time for the banquet. She and Jughead sit together, as many toasts are made with more generic and even exaggerated wishes for the two of them. For many of the nobles, this is just a way to ensure they are in the good graces of the soon to be King and Queen. All of tonight with their gifts and well-spoken words are nothing but a means to an end. Like her father used to say, everything was part of a complicated, yet delicate game. 

By the middle of the dinner, Betty sees one of the heralds speaking with her mother on the other side of the table and gesturing to the door, where a group of soldiers seems to be waiting. The Queen stands up and follows the herald without as much as a word, only stopping to say something to King Forsythe who also gets up and goes with her to where to soldiers are. 

“What is happening?” She asks the Prince, discreetly pointing at the door. He stares at the door for a moment before replying. 

“Maybe it’s something banquet related or something with the soldiers. I’m sure it’s nothing we should worry about.” He turns to her. “How are you holding up?” Betty looks around before answering, just wanting to be sure no one is really paying attention to them. 

“Honestly?”

The Prince nods. “Honestly.” 

“I’m tired,” she says knowing he’ll appreciate her sincerity. “My feet are killing me, and this corset isn’t doing much for my hunger.” As his eyes widen, she worries it was too much information, but then he laughs, a throaty laughter that she hadn’t heard before and it makes her smile and laugh, too. 

As their laughter dies, Betty finds Jughead with his eyes locked on her face up to a point she feels her face grow red.

"You look beautiful, Betty," he says after a moment and she isn't sure her heart is racing because he said she looks beautiful or if it's because he remembered what she said and called her Betty.

"Thank you." Suddenly shy, she looks away, taking a sip of her wine. 

"Would you like to dance?" he asks next. "I know you said your feet are killing you, so it's alright if you don't want to. We can just sit and--"

"I'd love to dance with you, Jughead," she replies cutting him off. He smiles again and offers her his hand. 

Just as they're standing up, the doors are opened and her mother and his father walk back in and they are not alone. Lord Evernever and Lord Andrews are with them as well as Lord Petite and another man she doesn't know. 

"Can you excuse me for a moment?" Jughead's voice makes her look away from the doors and she sees he's looking at them, too. 

"Of course." She watches as he walks away and she can't help but feel tempted to follow him. Although Betty knows her mother won't like it, she starts walking. She is, after all, a married woman now, and that ought to have some benefits. Before she can reach them, a hand touches her arm. 

"Princess," Lady Evernever says, having appeared from nowhere. "I hope you are having the evening of your life." 

"Lady Evernever. Yes, yes I am." She replies, looking from her face to where Jughead is now speaking with his father. "If you'll excuse me I need to--"

"No, you don't, dear. Leave the men to handle their business. You should go back to your chair, and sit and drink like a good wife does when her husband is occupied." There's no way she'll be able to bypass Lady Evelyn. Not without causing a commotion. As she turns to go back to her place, Evelyn speaks again, and it takes everything for her not to turn around and reply. "That's a good girl." 

From her chair, Betty watches the group intently. Her mother has joined King Forsythe and Jughead and after a few minutes, he moves to talk with the Lords. She sees some nods and next thing she knows, Lord Andrews is leaving the room with the Lords from Eldervair. The others begin to walk back to the table, where the guests keep eating and drinking unaware of what just happened. 

As her mother passes by, Lady Evernever stands up, and Betty rolls her eyes knowing Evelyn is undoubtedly telling her mother about her. Her suspicions are confirmed when both Jughead and her mother turn their heads to look at her. 

When her mother approaches her, she stands up.

"Mother. What happened?" The Queen makes a face at her question, looking bored and displeased at the same time. 

"Elizabeth. Calm down. Everything is alright." Behind her, the Prince shakes his head lightly, as if disagreeing, but Betty can't be sure because he turns to speak with his father. "It was brought to our attention that the people of Eldervair find it unfair to have not been able to attend to their Prince and future King's wedding. So we called the Lords and it's decided that you shall go to Eldervair in the morning. It's only fair that your nuptials are celebrated there, as well. I have orders for everything to be prepared and you mustn't worry about it." 

Betty needs a breath to understand what her mother is saying. 

"Wait. So I'm just going away? All of a sudden?" 

"Yes, Elizabeth." Alice replies with annoyance. "I just explained it to you. You will be their Queen one day. You have responsibilities. Now enough with these questions. We don't want to disturb our guests." 

Her mother is gone before she can reply, and Betty sits alone until Jughead returns and when he sits by her side, something in his face has changed and he seems tense. 

"Are you alright?" He studies her face for a moment before replying. 

"If I say yes, will you believe me?" Betty shakes her head. 

"No." He smiles, taking a sip of his wine. 

"This isn't the place to talk about it, but can you trust me that it will be fine?" She considers his words for a moment. 

"Will you tell me what's going on?" He doesn't hesitate. 

"Yes. But not now. Unless you want your mother to come back, we should go mingle with our guests." Betty can't help but smile in spite of her worries. 

She follows him as he walks around, talking with some people and introducing her to those of Eldervair who haven't had a chance to talk to her so far. 

 

Almost an hour later, when they're talking to Captain Topaz, Betty notices Nana Blossom alone in a corner, struggling to untangle her dress from the chair's foot. Excusing herself, she goes to help the old woman. 

"There, Lady Blossom," she says with a smile. "Do you need anything?" Roseanne Blossom straightens up her monocle. 

"Oh my darling girl. You're so sweet." Betty smiles politely at the nice words.

"Thank you, Lady Blossom." Suddenly, the woman grabs her arm, pulling her closer with a grip too strong for how frail she looks. 

"You are sweet, but do not be a fool. You can run but you can't escape. The grave has been opened and the reckoning has begun." 

"Nana!" Cheryl exclaims coming from behind her and prying her grandmother's hand away from her arm. "Princess! I am so sorry. Did she hurt you?" Betty shakes her head even if the look the old Blossom is giving her is sending chills down her spine. 

"Excuse me." She goes straight to the table grabbing her glass and drinking up in the hopes to settle herself down. _It's nothing,_ she tells herself. _It's nothing. She's just a crazy old woman._

"Betty?" Jughead calls, startling her. He eyes her with worry.

"Sorry. I guess I let Roseanne Blossom's gypsy habits get to me." She explains, finishing her drink. "Do you want to get away from here? We could get some fresh air in the garden." Jughead frowns a little. 

"I don't think your mother would appreciate us leaving in the middle of… everything. But, how about that dance?" Even though she can see he's troubled by something, Betty doesn't argue, needing a distraction from Nana Blossom's cryptic words. 

"Yes, please." 

As he twirls her around, Betty is the closest to a happy bride she's been since this all began. Even if just for a moment. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading.  
> As you know, feedback is very important, so drop a kudos, comment... Whatever. I'll love to hear what you think!  
> xoxo


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